Flight of the King (2 page)

“My nonexistent kin?” Bailey guessed.

“Right,” said Phi, with a finger to her lips. Her dark brown eyes sparkled as she smiled. “He has something for you.”

Bailey smiled, hoping that Phi was referring to the Loon's book of prophecies. In addition to training with Tremelo, Bailey was eager to learn more about the strange book that had
predicted his Awakening. The book contained a prophecy about the “Child of War,” who would herald a new king for Aldermere. It had been written by the Loon, the man who had raised
Tremelo. Ever since the discovery that Bailey was, in fact, the Child of War and that Tremelo himself was the True King, Bailey longed to pore over the book's mysterious code. But it could
only be read with the Seers' Glass, a prism-like object that deciphered the broken, scratchy letters. Tremelo had promised to study the book over the break, and to tell Bailey what he'd
discovered.

With their bags in tow, Hal and Bailey followed the girls away from the crowded rigi platform and onto the main campus. The hedge animals along the path, lovingly sculpted by the groundskeeper,
Mrs. Copse, wore white hats of fresh snow. A family of deer darted through the falling flakes on the path ahead of them. A flurry of bats, happy to see Hal again, fluttered out of the Fairmount
clock tower in a leathery swarm and surrounded the group, causing Tori and Phi to shriek with laughter.

“They're just saying hello!” said Hal, grinning as the colony circled the clock tower as one, then disappeared under the eaves of its peaked roof.

The Fairmount campus was still decked out for Midwinter—candles shone in every window, and cheery garlands of ivy and cranberry twigs had been draped over all the marble entranceways.

“How was the Gray City?” Hal asked Tori as they passed the library.

“There were lootings,” she said. “A printing press near our apartment was ransacked. Papers everywhere, all along the streets, for days. It was a mess! At least the papers
looked sort of festive.…”

“Who did it? The Dominae?” Bailey asked.

Tori shrugged.

“Who knows? The entire city's gone nuts—whether people support the Dominae or want Parliament back, it doesn't seem to matter. Everyone's just doing whatever they
please. I've even seen people trying Dominance for themselves—controlling their kin just for fun. Like a game!”

“That's awful!” said Hal. “There's nothing like that in the Lowlands. Not that we saw, anyway.”

Bailey knew that Tori's experience of going home for a few weeks was remarkably different from his own. In the Lowlands, he'd felt very far away from Taleth and his friends, but also
far away from the growing power of Viviana and the Dominae. He couldn't imagine what it was like to live in the center of the turmoil.

“No one's able to do what Sucrette did, though,” Tori continued, lowering her voice. “I haven't seen anyone able to control someone
else's
kin, the
way she did in the woods that night. I think most people don't even know Dominance is capable of that. If they were, I wonder if they'd be so eager to try it.”

The four of them walked on in silence for a moment. Bailey tried to dismiss the grisly images that played across his mind: an advancing troop of bears and wolves and badgers, their eyes cold and
murderous. Sucrette, ordering them to kill.

“Did you tell your mom and dad anything about Taleth?” Phi asked, drawing Bailey back to the chilly commons. He smelled burning logs on the breeze, drifting from the chimneys of the
library. Carin the falcon nestled her head in Phi's curly hair, which had somehow grown even wilder over the few weeks they'd been gone.

“I couldn't,” said Bailey. He'd wanted to blurt out the whole story as soon as he'd gotten home, especially when he imagined how proud and relieved his parents
would be that he had Awakened at last. Instead, he'd pretended that nothing had changed, and had tried to ignore their looks of concern. As far as they knew, he would have an Absence
forever.

“It's not that I don't trust them,” he explained. “I know they could keep my Awakening a secret, but if I had to explain
why
it's a secret,
they'd never let me come back to school! How was I supposed to tell them that the Dominae tried to kill me once already? I can't see my mom taking that in stride.”

“No, I guess not,” laughed Phi.

“How were things here?” Bailey asked, hoping he hadn't brought up any sore feelings. Phi's family hadn't been able to afford a rigi ticket back to the Dust Plains,
and she'd spent the break at Fairmount, in the lonely wing of the Treetop dormitory that the school had kept open for cases like hers.

“It was nice, actually,” she said. “I spent a lot of time with Gwen.”

“That's great,” Bailey said. “I wouldn't mind talking some more to her too.” Gwen was only a year older than Bailey and his friends, but she came from an
entirely different world. She and her guardian, the Elder, had escaped chaos in Parliament and the Gray City, and had come to Fairmount in search of Tremelo. It was the Elder who had broken the
strange and life-changing news that Tremelo was the lost Prince Trent. Now, with the Elder dead, Gwen was also in danger from the Dominae. The safest place for her was at the school.

“She's been a huge help,” Phi said, lowering her voice to a whisper. “She's hiding the Seers' Glass for Tremelo.”

Bailey felt a twinge of envy. He wished
he'd
been asked to keep the Glass safe, or the Loon's book. But Tremelo hadn't asked for his help.

Bailey and his friends arrived at Tremelo's classroom, which was just as messy, dark, and unorganized as he'd left it the semester before. Worse, even, since Tremelo—a devoted
tinkerer—seemed to be at the start of several new projects. In his office, oil-covered gears and ink-blotted papers were piled on the wide, wooden expanse of his desk. This wasn't how
kings lived.

“Good, you're here.” Tremelo, a tall, lean man with a dark mustache, stood against his desk with his arms crossed. “We need to discuss your plan now that you've
Awakened.”

“Nice to see you too,” Bailey said, shuffling off his winter coat. “Good break?”

“Not enough rootwort rum in the stores,” Tremelo replied. Apparently he didn't care how Bailey's break had been as he changed the subject abruptly. “You'll
have to be on your guard, Bailey. The school will be watched now that Sucrette's gone.”

Bailey nodded, excited to hear what Tremelo had in mind. Six weeks had passed, and Bailey was sure that as king, Tremelo would have reached out to the Melore loyalists by now.

“Of course,” Bailey said. “But what else? Have you talked with the RATS? Did you tell them you're the True King? What about the Velyn? Will they fight with us?”

“Focus,” Tremelo said.

“But—” Bailey tried again.

Tremelo held his hand up for silence. He looked at Tori, Hal, and Phi, who stood gathered inside the doorway between the classroom and the office, and beckoned them in. He waited for Hal to
close the door before going on.

“You're getting ahead of yourself,” Tremelo said. “We would need more than the word of an old man and the appearance of an abnormally large cat to spring into the Gray
City like vigilantes. I am not running into the heart of the Dominae's operations to get myself assassinated, thank you. Maybe there is a True King, maybe there isn't. Right now,
we're
interpreting
a prophecy, not going into battle over it. Understood?”

A silence settled over the room like a thick, suffocating blanket.

“My status as a supposed ‘king' is the least of our worries right now,” Tremelo continued. “I have urgent news: we're about to be paid a very unwelcome visit
by Viviana Melore. She's conducting a goodwill tour of the kingdom's assets: factories, farms…and schools. Her first stop is none other than Fairmount.”

Bailey stiffened. He heard a sharp intake of breath from Phi.

“She's coming
here
?” Bailey said.

“Next Friday.” Tremelo nodded. “In less than two weeks.”

“Goodwill tour, my eye!” exclaimed Tori. “She'll be asking around about Sucrette!”

“If she even
needs
to ask,” Hal pointed out. “What if she already knows we were involved?”

“Don't panic,” Tremelo urged. “If she knew that, we'd all be dead already.”

“
That's
reassuring,” Tori said.

“The tour is a ruse, an excuse for her to find out more about the Child of War. I suspect she'll also try to find the book and the Glass, as it's certain that Sucrette would
have mentioned them—but she won't find them,” said Tremelo. “Not as long as you all lie low. And that begins
now
. No jaunts off the grounds. No secret meetings,
after this one. You will all do your utmost to appear as normal, unaware students.”

“But shouldn't we try to stop her?” Bailey asked, though he wasn't sure how. “You're the true ruler of Aldermere, you could challenge her—”

“We'll do absolutely nothing to draw attention,” said Tremelo firmly, cutting Bailey off. “If we do, we risk exposing ourselves—and that goes for using the book and
Glass while she's here. Working out the Loon's riddles isn't worth the risk.”

Bailey looked around at his friends. Hal stood with his arms crossed tightly over his chest, staring at the floor. Tori was shaking her head.

“I don't understand,” said Bailey. “We're not going to do
anything
?”

“
I
have a plan,” said Tremelo, “if only to gain some information during Viviana's visit. But you must listen to reason, Bailey. Involving you is far too
dangerous. Even if I
was
this ‘True King,' we're nowhere near ready to challenge Viviana's rule openly. Unless the four of you and Gwen are ready to stand in for an
entire army.”

Bailey didn't respond. Tremelo was right, though he didn't want to admit it out loud.

“I thought not,” said Tremelo. He straightened up. “The Dominae suspect foul play in Sucrette's death. And if Viviana is as intent on stopping the prophecy as I believe
she is, then that means she'll be after us. We can't give her any reason to suspect our involvement.” He walked to a wire cage hidden behind a pile of newspapers in the
corner.

“We must assume that Sucrette sent word to Viviana about the Child of War, even if she didn't name you, Bailey,” Tremelo went on as he bent down and unlatched the door of the
cage. “So the Dominae will be looking for a white tiger or for anyone who claims to have a White Tiger Animas. Which means you're inviting certain death if you reveal your Awakening.
But you can't continue to live with an Absence, either. It will seem too suspicious.” Tremelo reached into the cage and pulled something out. When he returned to the desk, he had what
looked like a moldy green stocking cap lying along his forearm, with its tail dangling down past the crook of Tremelo's elbow. Tremelo plopped the creature on his desk, where it adjusted a
scaly leg over a metal pipe and promptly fell asleep. It was an iguana, and an ancient one at that. Its gray-green skin was flaking off in patches, and the sagging bags under its bulbous eyes were
crusted with a growth that reminded Bailey of pictures he'd seen of sea barnacles.

“Uugh,”
said Tori, and Bailey agreed.

“Say hello to your new kin, Bailey. Many felicitations on your Awakening,” said Tremelo. “Tori, I'll need you to pass along a few pointers on how to blend in with the
reptilian crowd.”

The iguana slowly opened one eye, and then, presumably bored by what it saw, licked its eyeball and went back to sleep.

“It looks like it's dying,” Bailey said.

“Its immobility is part of the plan,” said Tremelo, sounding tremendously pleased with himself. “No one will notice that you aren't fully interacting with him. And since
there are no other Animas Iguana students currently at Fairmount, no one will be the wiser when you carry Bert around.”

“Bert?” Tori asked.

Tremelo raised an eyebrow.

“Doesn't he
look
like a Bert?”

“He looks like a handbag,” Bailey said.

Tremelo smiled. “He's
your
handbag now, my boy! He'll accompany you to classes, to the dining hall, to Scavage practice…”

Bailey reached out a tentative finger and stroked the ridges on Bert's back. The iguana didn't stir, but a quarter-inch of papery skin lifted off at Bailey's touch. He shook
his finger to get it off.

“What about Taleth?” Bailey asked. “Last fall, you were helping me prepare for my Awakening—now that I've Awakened, is the training over? I don't even know
how the bond is supposed to work!”

Tremelo's mustache drooped as he frowned, and Bailey saw a glimmer of sincere concern in his eyes.

“It's true, your bond is very fresh,” Tremelo said, “which means it'll seem very random to you at first. Moments of insight and shared vision with Taleth will come
and go without you being able to control them, usually during times of extreme emotions. These can be jarring, and learning to tap into your kin's mind at will takes time. I wish I could help
you ease into it, I really do. But if we were to attract attention to the woods, it's not only you and Taleth who would be in danger. The Velyn would be at risk too.”

Bailey breathed deeply, fighting back a lump in his throat. Disappointment filled his chest like a dark cloud.

“Could the Loon's book help?” he asked. “Even if you won't let me see it while Viviana's here, I have to know: what does it
mean
that I'm this
Child of War? Could the prophecy help me understand more about my bond? Did you read any of it?”

“I've done what little reading I dare,” Tremelo said. “One passage in particular caught my interest:
the reflection and the opposite of evil…
” He seemed
to lose himself in thought for a moment, then shook his head. “But the book is hidden away now. I promise, I won't keep it from you forever. But you're in more danger now than
you've faced in your entire life. We
must
wait.”